The Other Side of the Glass: Mistake
by Kyuusaisha Bleeding
Summary: Two normal people make their way through airport security. But something dangerous catches attention of security guards, and a small, simple mistake is made. Because everyone makes mistakes..right? anti RaitoxMisa


No Spoilers.

Kyuusaisha Bleeding: Silence, and then…

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The Other Side of the Glass

There was a blue jay building a nest outside, just above the upper window ledge. It struggled with the placement of thin twigs. Its wings occasionally hit the glass. Blue morning light filtered through misty clouds and thick windows, which ran from the east wall of the airport, all the way to the sliding doors on the south wall.

The doors divorced for the umpteenth time that day, allowing a new crowd to come between them. In this flock, everybody's formal suit was a dull dark blue. Brown, fake leather suitcases swung slack at their sides. The automatic doors hummed and embraced each other once more. Once inside, the business suits dispersed, staring at the ground. Following the group was a cheerful young couple. The girl was average height, with long golden hair. She was dressed entirely in pristine white and lace. The boy was tall and brown-haired, with serious eyes, and wearing colourful designer clothing.

They hurriedly made their way toward airport security, each dragging a backpack behind them. The boy spoke softly to the girl, who would reply in a jovial tone, or giggle in response and touch his hand. The line in front of the security gate was not long, and they joined it.

The line-up slowly trickled like a acquiescent stream past the metal-detecting towers, the two detached, autumn-bright leaves drifting on top remaining close together, as couples do. Their shoulders brushed, and the blonde-haired girl even rummaged in her pack for a small notebook as they waited. The boy was nodding as the girl scrawled something in blue ink on the page. She looked up when the boy touched her forearm; they were at the front of the queue.

The girl held the black book to her chest, and they both placed their bags on the conveyor belt. The boy stepped through the gate first, reclaimed his luggage, and waited for the girl. She had to remove several metal-studded belts that she was wearing, and she pointed questioningly to the silver buckles on her boots. The security manager tiredly rolled his eyes, waving her along.

Nothing happened. Something wasn't right, however. Another staff member standing near a screen, attached to the conveyor belt, had called attention to the girl's purse. This person beckoned to the security manager, pointing accusingly at the screen. The screen was revealing the secret contents of the girl's handbag. The man's eyes narrowed.

The girl and the boy were confused. Nevertheless, they waited patiently as the authority discussed it behind their backs. The muted blue business suits in line after them feigned composure, but shifted back and forth uneasily.

After several moments, the purse appeared on the other side of the conveyor belt. The girl took a step forward. The security guard quickly held up his hand and shook his head "no". With his other hand, he began to undo the clasp of the handbag.

The girl immediately panicked. She jumped forward, asking him not to open the bag. This only made the man more determined to inspect the bag. He ignored her. He continued to unfasten the hook. The girl suddenly lunged for her purse. When she drew back, the handbag hung limply in her fingers. Before the security manager could demand anything, the girl held out her hand, as though she was able to force down the man's temper this way. Her eyes were wide. She was leaning forward, and her mouth barely moved when she spoke.

The confused boy moved anxiously toward the girl. She was still speaking. Occasionally, the girl would point to the boy and then to the purse. The man, growing edgy, snatched the bag away from the girl. Again, he tried searching it. The girl shouted in distress. Irritated, the security man stared at the girl while removing a two-way radio from his belt. He muttered something into the speaker.

Several moments later, three armed guards in navy blue uniforms appeared in a rush. The business suits and the colourful boy shied away from them. The large barricades surrounded the girl. Their mouths moved, they looked slightly surprised. Presumably, they were instructing the girl to remain where she was until her bag had been adequately searched.

The boy reached out for the girl's arm. He attempted to calm her. Their eyes met, and they both knew something about the bag and the black notebook still clamped to the girl's chest. Suddenly, the girl once again tried to rescue her purse from the clutches of the security manager. She screamed a threat at the airport personnel. One of the blue guards took this as a cue to draw their weapon. They aimed the safety-locked pistol at the girl's legs. They ordered the girl to stay where she was.

The other two blockades instantly began waving their arms and shouting at the third to put the gun away. The girl's anger grew. She continued to threaten. The guards yelled. The girl moved towards her purse. The security man behind the desk quickly opened it to look inside. The guards yelled. Boy cried in distress. Gun pointed its deadly finger. Girl dove for the handbag. Once she had it in her hands, she plunged her hand into the space between the two zipper halves. Her hand emerged and

BANG.

_The pistol wasn't safety-locked._

Nothing was happening. Everything was happening. Silence. Slow. Motion.

Her panic-stricken eyes were wide. Reflected in them was her soul. Her soul was a picture of a blue airport with her boyfriend standing to one side.

She was surprised; Her mouth opened. She was disappointed; Her brow furrowed. She was angry; Her teeth clenched.

She did not move. The girl was falling. Backwards.

Ribbons of golden hair splayed in the air. The strands swam as though under water.

Hands covered with spotless gloves loosened. The black notebook drifted to the blue carpet. The strap of the purse was caught on the girl's wrist.

Layers of ivory lace ruffled in a sluggish current. Her arms drooped behind her body.

The only part that wasn't the same. Was the black dent in the girl's white dress. In her ribs.

The girl glided to her deathbed. Horrified voices gradually permeated the thick barrier of time stretched throughout the languid moment. The feet, like other tree trunks around the girl, defied nature – began to move. Constricted by the cold earth, they moved slowly.

Did the girl make a sound when she finally struck the floor?

Anxious limbs and fingers grabbed at the girl's white dress. Foreign warmth seeped out and tinged the carpet purple. The body shivered. Its fingers flexed.

The boy was already there. His eyes were wide. Despair and horror and something more. He was kneeling beside the girl's body. The boy picked up the black notebook.

The formal suits and body shields continued to make a racket. They imposed upon privacy and patience.

The body's hand touched the boy briefly. The lips parted. Miniscule movements that ordinarily went unnoticed, noticeably ceased. Breathing hitched, and faded for the last time.

The boy clung to the body's shoulders. Hoping for nothing. Knowing the truth. The girl wasn't there. In her place was a limp rag doll, full of memories but with no tangibility. He held her small hand in his own once more.

The other hand, still buried inside the purse, slipped out. It flopped to the side. Lifelessly held between the fingers was the item the girl had been attempting to keep safe. It turned out to be a small box. Something that appeared harmless. The box was covered in pink felt. Nothing similar to a fatal device at all. The lid was partly open. A tiny, circular object nestled within glinted slightly.

The boy looked closer. Waiting in delicate folds of silk was a ring. A very simple, pure gold engagement ring.

The engraving read, "My Knight I Love You Forever"

There was a blue jay building a nest outside, just above the upper window ledge. It struggled with the placement of thin twigs. Its wings occasionally hit the glass. Blue morning light filtered through misty clouds and thick windows, which ran from the east wall of the airport, all the way to the sliding doors on the south wall…

Fin

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Few questions to consider... 

Did Raito plan this?

Or was it just "wrong place, wrong time" excuse?


End file.
